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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753284">we'll spend some time, forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierraadeux/pseuds/sierraadeux'>sierraadeux</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Drinking, Getting Together, M/M, Mermaids, Mythical Beings &amp; Creatures, Nudity, Sirens, can i get uhh mermaid meet cute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:28:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,897</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierraadeux/pseuds/sierraadeux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Dangerous, the primal part of his brain supplied. He’d been selective about ignoring it lately, and maybe if he would take two seconds to fill his mind with anything but the beautiful creature, he would realize just how much he was starting to integrate. Bad.<br/>But he was so, so good. So pretty.</em><br/>or<br/>Two sets of legs, two tails, one human.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell/Phil Lester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>we'll spend some time, forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>happy spo0o0o0oky halloween!!!!! feeling like writing a handful of supernatrual-y and spooky stories this month and am kicking it off with, tbh, my fav so far :))</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was beautiful. More beautiful than any fish Phil had ever met, and he’d met them all—or, at least, most of them. He was still working through that list, somewhere about sixty percent of the ocean explored so far, taking his time. </p><p>The beautiful man had been a bit of a roadblock in those endeavors, but not necessarily an unwelcome one. </p><p>Phil had some time to kill anyway. That’s what led him to the little tourist trap in the first place. He thought it was a dive bar, one of those places he could have a little fun at playing with the people who call themselves locals, but he was so, so wrong. </p><p>He was a little disarming at first, so beautiful Phil could only think he was like him. The primal part of his brain—all of it, really—screamed that four letter word it always refused at the prospects of any of his own kind. That should have been enough to switch on the alarms, prove him wrong in thinking they were one in the same, but Phil had always been told he was a little stubborn. </p><p>He wasn’t sure that would be the word he’d use. Not stubborn, just different—choosing to travel alone instead of with a pack, or a mate. Maybe it <em> was </em> weird, but that’s the way he liked it. He was fine on his own. </p><p>Or so he thought. </p><p>He was supposed to move on, keep going, not stay in the same place for too long. It was safer like that, for the ones who couldn’t help themselves from exploring the surface as well. </p><p>The moon was full for the second time, and Phil was still there. </p><p><em> Dangerous</em>, the primal part of his brain supplied. He’d been selective about ignoring it lately, and maybe if he would take two seconds to fill his mind with anything but the beautiful creature, he would realize <em> just how much </em> he was starting to integrate. <em> Bad.  </em></p><p>But he was so, so good. So pretty. </p><p>Similar thoughts swirled around his brain as he stepped into the dark bar awash in an aqua blue. Cheap imitation, but he gave them props for trying—mostly for the specimen on view than anything else. </p><p>He ordered something described as sickly sweet, a vivid liquid in an odd shaped glass with one of those long things he was always picking up from the sea floor stuck in it. Playing the part—Phil no longer got those odd looks from the first few times he was there. He’s learning, hopefully blending in. </p><p>Sat on one of the plush chairs that felt odd against his skin, Phil tongued at the bit of plastic, chasing it around the rim of his drink before catching it and sucking. </p><p><em> Not salty enough</em>, he mused, settling back into the chair like he’d seen other patrons do. Fitting in. Just like he noticed the long stares at his exposed skin, they were uncomfortable with how rigidly he would sit. He relaxed now, looked as though he was less alert than actuality, and all of the shorts and tee shirts he swiped from the boardwalk were replaced with longer sleeves. </p><p>Denim—they call it—felt as weird as the velour of the chair against his skin. Mostly everything felt weird against his skin though. Scratchy, not soft or slippery. Foreign. </p><p>Phil reminded himself that <em> he </em> was the foreigner, despite starting to blend in with the locals. </p><p>None of that mattered when the beautiful man was in front of him. In those moments, he was the only thing that consumed Phil’s mind. </p><p>It was easy to be fooled at first, the artificial lighting of the large tank making his skin that familiar pale blue-green. A beauty so ethereal, <em> too ethereal </em> to be human. </p><p><em> How could a human be more beautiful than me? </em> Phil had asked himself when he saw the creature after the show that first night he wandered in for a bit of fun. He was on two legs, all the same as Phil, but he walked on them as if he had been all his life. </p><p>The shimmer on his face was merely something he could wipe off. The bits at his fingertips glittered under the light as he tapped them on the wooden surface of the bar, attracting Phil’s predatory eyes as well. Removable, temporary—unlike Phil, even in his false form. </p><p>His skin was so pink outside of the tank, red flushing at his cheeks when he caught Phil staring. Entirely warm-blooded—human. </p><p>Phil was so preoccupied with maintaining his own breathing during the show that night, he hadn’t even registered that the man was swimming up every few minutes to refill his lungs with air. It was an impressive amount of time for a human, but possible. Phil knew that. He would have caught it if he wasn’t so… <em> distracted.  </em></p><p>Phil was designed to be the most beautiful, the most alluring, and yet a <em> human </em>so easily showed him up. It piqued his interest, kept him close to that specific shore. Kept him coming for more. </p><p>And more and more and more and more. </p><p>They called him Daniel. Phil liked the way it sounded in his stolen voice, a lilt collected from the various humans behind that particular bar. It was the first voice that had ever felt his own amongst all of the tones he tried on his tongue. Perhaps it <em> was </em> his, and he just hadn’t found it until then. <em> Fate.  </em></p><p>Or perhaps he was just collecting reasons to stay. </p><p>Tonight, flecks of gold adorned his cheeks. The false tail projecting him forward, up, and around in that alluring way was even darker than his eyes. A deep, rich black that reflected subtle hues of the rainbow. Like an oil slick in water. Phil now could tell it was merely silicone, though it looked far more believable than the other humans in the tank—the one’s Phil paid no mind to. </p><p>The show was short, too short. It always was. </p><p>Phil played his usual game, sucking at the dredges of the fruity drink he wished they would have at least thrown a sardine or two in as he waited for Daniel to return on two feet. He left some of the paper he used for his drinks at the bar in the plastic shell with Daniel’s name on it—a poor imitation of the real thing. That first night he had noticed how the humans would step forward, place the worthless paper as some sort of offering. He started taking more from the shops at the dock, always wishing he could offer the gorgeous being something more valuable, but not wanting to disrespect their odd customs. </p><p>One day he’ll give Daniel something valuable, something shiny and worthy, he promised himself that. </p><p>The brown hair that flowed like eelgrass in the water settled into more defined curls, a few spirals laying over his forehead. They left droplets in his path to the bar for the singular drink he always had. It was something light in color, pale to Phil’s vivid concoction. Dan sat on one of the barstools and pinched the stem of the glass between two fingers. </p><p>Today, all ten of the nails on his hands were painted a similar black as his false tail. Phil once thought they were like that because Dan was like him, but the ever changing colors, and sometimes a lack thereof, pointed once again to human. Phil noticed them glinting flecks of every color when Dan stopped the tapping of his other hand at the bar top to stick the wedge of lime hanging on the rim of his drink beyond his lips. </p><p>A tongue always followed, darting out and swiping at those soft, plush-looking lips. </p><p>Phil only ever stayed long enough to watch the color return to them—brown curls only starting to dry in the air as the alcohol warmed him from the inside out. That was typically when Dan would look to Phil, about halfway through his drink. Dark eyes called to him like a siren. </p><p>That was Phil’s shtick, not his. If Phil wasn’t so focused on quickly getting out of the bar before doing something stupid like answer the call, he’d have half a mind to be offended. </p><p>He wished the sea would clear his mind. It always used to, never anymore. </p><p>The water splashed as he dove off the pier, disrupting the quiet of the night. He swam fast, deep down to the reefs where flashy, colorful fish darted past his tail. He looked at each and every one as they passed, every saturated shade visible to Phil’s adept eyes in the dark abyss of the sea. </p><p>They’re supposed to be some of the most beautiful, second only to Phil’s kind. Phil didn’t pay them any mind, thoughts instead drifting to deep brown eyes as he went deeper and deeper. </p><p>It was such a unique color, unlike any he had ever seen in his travels. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Your guy is here again.” </p><p>Dan blushed, pushing back at the shoulder that just shoved at him. His tail was already fanned out in the water at the top of the tank, and he shuffled his silicone-clad bum closer off the edge. </p><p>“He’s not <em> my guy</em>,” Dan muttered before diving in with a splash, knowing his huffy response was a waste of breath. He’d have to come back up sooner than planned. </p><p>In his line of work frequent flyers weren’t uncommon. Creeps weren’t rare—they all had to keep an eye out from time to time—but they also weren’t really a main concern given the small, sleepy coastal fishing town. For the most part, people weren’t weird, because there really wasn’t anywhere to hide around here. </p><p>Dan liked it that way. It took the anxiety out of a job he loved to do. He wasn’t making SeaWorld headliner kind of money, but that was quite alright with him. Back pats for his morals aside, he had everything he needed here. </p><p>Well, mostly everything. </p><p>This guy… something about him didn’t ring any of Dan’s alarm bells, despite the fact that he’d been in for almost every single one of Dan’s nights for the past two months. Nearly three, actually, now that he really thought about it. </p><p>He always arrived just before Dan’s show. He ordered a Blue Lagoon and sat in one of the red velvet chairs in the front row, just to the right of the tank—away from the bright center lights. And he always left the very moment Dan got enough tequila in him to be brave enough to look his way. Every time, Dan was <em> so </em>close to walking across the room, and every time he merely ended up staring after the beautiful man disappearing out the exit. </p><p>He was immediately caught off guard by his beauty that very first night. Entranced even through his hazy, blurred vision beyond the thick glass of the tank. Everything was always a bit out of proportion, newer divers were rarely ever able to see <em> anything </em>out of the tank, but Dan was seasoned. He could make out shapes and faces as he performed, the saltwater barely bothering his eyes anymore. </p><p>They were always a bit red though. Occupational hazard, he guessed. </p><p>Dan looked to him the second he dove down under. It really was a habit now. An obsession, if he wanted to get weird about it—and maybe he did. He was in his usual seat, in his typical fashion of looking like he was just teetering the line between uncomfortable and relaxed, sipping at his toxic blue drink. He sipped slow, eyes darting as if they had a permanent lock on Dan’s every movement. </p><p>Dan briefly wondered what his skin looked like when he blushed underwater. Did it show at all? Or was it even more exaggerated in the cooled temperature? </p><p>Sometimes Dan thought his guy looked as though <em> he </em> was the one in the water. Wait- not his guy. <em> The </em>guy. </p><p>Dan shook his head, blowing out the remaining bubbles of air in his lungs as he ascended for another breath. It only took a second for his lungs to be refilled. </p><p>He knew it was just the club lighting, his perception from inside the tank distorted everything into hues of blue. The guy’s fair skin reflected it well. His eyes shone an unnatural aqua, illuminated by the lights. Those pink lips were tinged the shade of his drink in the center of his pout around the colorful straw. Today it was purple. Dan had been on management for getting rid of the plastic all together, but he didn’t mind them so much when he was watching those lips press around one. </p><p>Maybe he’d save the environmentalist spiel for when he wasn’t swimming around a tank of tropical fish for other people’s pleasure. The fish were well taken care of though, he made sure of that. </p><p>Sometimes they seemed like his only friends. But it wasn’t like he was going to admit to anyone else that he was delusional enough to think the fish could understand him. They couldn’t. He knew that. </p><p>The show felt like it lasted both hours and minutes. In reality, by the time Dan made his final ascent and was pulled out of the water—hauling his large tail out with him—the tips of his fingers were only just starting to wrinkle. </p><p>He went about his usual routine, wiggling out of his tail and setting it out to dry whilst he had a drink or two, and patting his own body off, haphazardly scrunching his hair in a towel before pulling on joggers and a loose tee shirt. </p><p>It was routine as well, Dan glancing over from his spot at the bar, a moment of piercing eye contact before black hair flashed out of the bar. Dan sighed, downing the rest of his drink and pressing the salted rim to his lips for a moment as he tried to clear the image of those crystal blue eyes from his mind. It stung at the tiny crack in his bottom lip from biting it so often—just as it did under the saltwater of the tank. He signaled the bartender over to order a water instead of a second drink, shoulders slouching significantly. </p><p>The man always left Dan with nothing but vague memories and far too generous tips in the clamshell with his name on it. It really shouldn’t have been as defeating as it felt. </p><p>The misty evening air bit at Dan’s arms, making him shiver the second he stepped out the back door. He hiked his tail back up with a huff, saving it from sliding off his shoulder—the big silicone beast folded once over, its large tail fanned out against his backside. It was a pain to always be carrying it back and forth, but the bitch was expensive and Dan wasn’t going to take any chances leaving it backstage. </p><p>“Hello,” a low voice pulled him out of his thoughts. </p><p>Dan jumped, a small sound leaving his throat as he looked up. He wasn’t alone out here. He immediately straightened his posture, running through thoughts of if he would be able to swing his tail around fast enough to give whoever it was a decent slap. </p><p>But his breath caught in his throat when he registered who was standing in front of him in the small space between the Employees Only door and the few cars still parked out back. </p><p>All fear dissipated from under Dan’s skin. His brain was wiped of every thought save for frantically filing away the information that the guy’s voice was quite northern. Not at all what Dan was expecting. </p><p>He guessed it made sense, being <em> here</em>, but he just didn’t… Dan squinted. He didn’t look like a local. Not any local Dan had ever met anyway. </p><p>If he was being honest, the guy didn’t look like any person Dan had ever seen at all. </p><p>“Oh, it’s you,” Dan said, holding a hand to his heart. He could feel its rapid beating, barely even slowing as he recovered from the fright. “Hi,” he added, a bit breathless. </p><p>The guy stepped closer—tentative, as if on unsure feet. </p><p>“My name is Phil?” he said slowly, his voice rising at the end. As if it was a question. </p><p>Dan smirked, a little humorous huff leaving his nose. He crossed his arms—to shield himself from the cold breeze, or perhaps for something to do with his hands so he didn’t reach out. </p><p>“Are you asking or telling?” </p><p>The guy- <em> Phil </em> pressed his lips together at that, like he was concentrating on his response. Dan found it adorable. The smirk on Dan’s lips tugged upwards, a dimple poked into his cheek as the corners of his eyes started to crinkle—giving him away. Maybe he wanted that. He wanted to be caught out. </p><p>“I don’t… know,” Phil replied in that same slow, thoughtful tone. It’s not like he seemed drunk, or stupid, not at all really. Beyond those eyes, it looked as though he was cycling through a million thoughts at once. If anything, he seemed overwhelmingly intelligent. Something about it made the hairs at the back of Dan’s neck rise. </p><p>“Alright,” Dan laughed, light. “I’m Dan.” </p><p>“You’re beautiful,” Phil said. It was a sure statement, immediate. </p><p>“I-” Dan felt heat at his cheeks as he stumbled over his words. “I- um. You’re forward,” he settled on. He somehow managed to look up at Phil from under his lashes despite their similar height. That was mostly on account of Dan’s chronic slouching, always making himself smaller than he was—tall people problems, he guessed. </p><p>Phil knit his perfect brows together. Dan could only marvel at them, now up close in high definition. </p><p>“Forward?” Phil stepped forward, right into Dan’s space. Dan didn’t step back. </p><p>Under the white light above the club’s back door, Dan could see all of his features so vividly. It wasn’t just the aqua hue of the bar room playing tricks on his eyes. If anything, it didn’t do him an ounce of justice. </p><p>Phil’s skin was so milky smooth and <em> soft-looking</em>, a contrast to the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the bow of his lips, the arch of his brows. Every sharp line glinted almost an opalescent blue, shining in the way Dan could only wish his waterproof makeup would. He couldn’t even bring himself to be jealous, it was just <em> so </em>pretty. Dan really wanted to just reach out and- </p><p>Speaking of jealousy… his <em> hair. </em> God, his hair—pushed up off his forehead with volume Dan only managed to achieve with many days without washing and years of living by the sea—was the blackest black Dan had ever seen. And when he cocked his head ever so to the side, it shone a deep midnight blue, proving Dan’s initial observations wrong once again. </p><p>Dan shook his head, all scrambled up in trying to wrap it around this impossible man. </p><p>“Never mind,” he said with a blush. “I like it.” </p><p>A perfect eyebrow lifted. “You like me?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Dan laughed. “I think I do. Are you-” Dan gestured in the air between them. “Do you want to-” </p><p>The cold hand at his cheek cut Dan off from whatever thought he was trying to vocalize. The lips pressed against his own—hot and urgent—wiped his mind completely. </p><p>Dan kissed back, stepping forward on entirely sure feet to melt into it. <em> Closer, more</em>, was all his mind provided. </p><p>Maraschino cherries. Phil tasted of maraschino cherries as Dan opened his mouth to him, let him have everything and more. He just wanted to give <em> everything. </em> Even if he was left with nothing. </p><p>Such an odd thought to cross his mind with a stranger’s tongue in his mouth in a car park, but it washed over him all the same. It didn’t sober him, he wasn’t drunk—at least, not from the tequila. He let the waves of it lap at his ankles, the hum in his throat turning into a soft, insistent whine as he pressed himself as close as he possibly could. </p><p>It wasn’t close enough. Not with the ridiculous mermaid tail still slung over his shoulder. He must have whined again at the thought, because Phil was pulling away. </p><p>He didn’t go far though, their foreheads bumping as Dan opened his eyes to blue so piercing he’d swear Phil used phosphorescent paint in place of eye drops. </p><p>Another ridiculous thought. Dan laughed—nothing but a soft, breathless huff in the small space between them. </p><p>“Your mouth is so salty.” Phil’s lips curled up into a smile. </p><p>“Yeah.” Dan laughed nervously. He’d bet his cheeks would go redder, if that was even possible at this point. “Sorry about that. The tank has to be saltwater for the fish,” he explained. “I definitely don’t help it with the post show margarita though. But, you know, gotta curb those tequila salty cravings somehow.” Dan chuckled, internally kicking himself for being a fucking dork. </p><p>Phil stepped back, and the whine of protest died in Dan’s throat as Phil looked at him. Looked at him like he was assessing something, trying to figure him out. You know, like, really staring at him hard—with narrowed eyes and his head cocked to the side. It was weird that Dan didn’t cringe under it or shy away. It was like he wanted to be seen. </p><p>That was a chilling thought: being perceived. </p><p>Then, all of a sudden, Phil straightened up again. “I want to show you something.” </p><p><em> Could get murdered, </em> Dan thought. <em> Kinda want to fuck this guy. </em> Really <em> want to fuck this guy.  </em></p><p>The pros heavily outweighed the cons. </p><p>“Yeah,” Dan nodded, “yeah. Okay. Let me just-” he gestured to the tail on his shoulder. “Let me put this in my boot, it’s heavy as fuck.” </p><p>Phil nodded, stepping out of Dan’s way with his head bowed the slightest angle down—almost respectfully. </p><p>Dan didn’t know what to make of it. Something told him it was a check in the non-murder box on the list of things that would be happening to him tonight. </p><p>As Phil lent a hand lifting the tail into Dan’s car without the slightest hint of struggle or huffed breath, he hoped he was right. </p><p>The docks were quiet this time of night—shops shuttered, fishermen resting for their early rise, even the gulls ceased their squawking. It would be eerie, Dan would be more cautious getting led to the pier furthest from all of the bobbing boats at the end of the dock, but something about Phil made him calm. <em> Trusting.  </em></p><p>Even if his heart rate spiked every time Phil tripped or stumbled over his own two feet. Which was often. Often enough that Dan began to laugh as he wrapped a hand around Phil’s smooth, pale elbow, keeping him upright. Phil started to lean into it, a sing-song noise leaving his own throat and wrapping around Dan’s eardrums like a warm embrace.</p><p>It felt good against the chill of the night. </p><p>By the time they made it to the end of the long, creaky pier, it was hard to tell who was leading whom. All Dan was truly certain of, was the fact that he was quickly falling for the sound of Phil’s laugh. <em> Infatuated.  </em></p><p>Though it felt like so much more than that. </p><p>“I feel like I’m being led out to sea by a beautiful siren,” Dan joked, laughing as he stepped up next to Phil at the end of the pier. The waves lapped at the wood, something disrupting the calm. He looked away from the water, turning his head to see Phil already staring at him intently. Phil was smiling, something soft, almost looking amused. </p><p>“If that were true, you wouldn’t be able to speak, never mind have any coherent thoughts,” Phil said. </p><p>Dan breathed in the sea air, never once looking away from Phil. </p><p>“Not doing great at either of those things right now, mate,” he kept his tone light, despite every hair on his body standing on end. He didn’t <em> feel </em>afraid, he felt calm. His body clearly wasn’t getting the memo. </p><p>Phil’s eyes narrowed, then went soft as he turned to cup Dan’s cheek again. Dan sighed, the tension in his muscles melting away with the touch. </p><p>“I <em> promise</em>.” Phil rubbed his thumb gently across Dan’s skin. It was interesting—how cool Phil’s palm felt against his cheek, while simultaneously leaving a burning hot fire under his skin in its wake. Dan wanted to lean against it forever. </p><p>“Promise what?” Dan asked, confusion still bubbling forward despite his warm, syrupy thoughts. </p><p>“That I’m not doing that. I wanted to, at first. You called to me.” Phil brushed his thumb against Dan’s bottom lip. Dan shuttered, feeling as though he was seconds away from liquifying and spilling right into the sea. “But I couldn’t have you like that. Not how I want.” </p><p>Phil surged forward, capturing Dan’s lips in a kiss. This one was shorter, more delicate, deliberate. And when he pulled away, Dan wanted a thousand more. </p><p>“That’s not how I want you,” Phil hummed in the electric space between them. </p><p>“I don’t know what you’re on about, but I want you too.” </p><p>The pier creaked underfoot as Dan took a small step forward, his nose brushing against Phil’s soft skin as he started to keep a tally. Maybe a thousand wasn’t enough. Dan reckoned he could sail through that quite quickly, and something told him he didn’t want this to be over and done with anytime soon. </p><p>Phil frowned. “I’m not like you.”</p><p>“I know,” Dan huffed with a little laugh. The corner of his mouth tugged up into something lopsided and silly. “I’m not too keen on the sugar daddy shit.” </p><p>“Daddy?” Phil’s impossibly blue eyes went wide, cocking his head to the side. </p><p>“The tips—you’ve got to stop doing that. They’re generous really, thank you, but I don’t like the whole rich boyfriend taking care of me trope.” </p><p>Phil’s head cocked to the other side. “Boyfriend?” </p><p>“I-” The words died in Dan’s throat, completely wiped from his mind. Phil was tugging his jumper off, dropping it by their feet. “What are you…” Dan trailed off, his mouth going dry as he watched Phil soldier on, toeing off his shoes and bringing his hands to the fly of his jeans. </p><p>This guy was straight up stripping on the docks! </p><p>He was also—Dan’s eyes slipped down as Phil’s jeans pooled at his ankles and he bent down to free them—<em> not </em>wearing any pants. </p><p><em> Well. </em> There was never a doubt in Dan’s mind that he was beautiful, but <em> wow.  </em></p><p>Phil kicked his jeans towards his pile of clothes and stood up straight again, and Dan was quick to bring his eyes back to blue, shaking his head a little to get that image out of his mind. </p><p>Or, at least, pushed to the side and stored for later. </p><p>“I can say I’ve never dropped the b word and gotten <em> that </em>reaction before,” Dan said. It took a great deal of effort to keep his eyes up, though Phil’s shoulders were quite the distraction. </p><p>Then they were moving, Phil turning away from Dan and towards the sea. </p><p>“What?” Dan’s eyes went wide, barely even processing the <em> cute butt </em> observation flashing though his mind. “You’re mental if you think you’re going skinny dipping right now!”</p><p>But Phil didn’t look back, he didn’t even respond. And Dan wasn’t quick enough when he rushed forward to grab at his arm to stop him, Phil diving straight into the black depths of the sea. </p><p>The displaced salt water splashed at Dan’s face and he flinched back at the cool mist of it, now entirely <em> too </em>awake for whatever the hell just happened. </p><p>“Phil?” Dan called with rising urgency. “Phil, what the fuck?” </p><p>Black hair didn’t immediately pop back up. There was a flash of pale, white skin, and then nothing. Phil completely disappeared into the darkness, the sea swallowing him whole. </p><p>“What the fuck?” Dan repeated, so far past starting to panic. He paced, the creaking of the wooden boards underfoot was the only noise in his ears beside the loud pounding of his heartbeat. </p><p>He was going to have to go in after him, wasn’t he? </p><p>“I never fucking- <em> Jesus Christ, </em>” Dan muttered to himself, sliding his phone out of his pocket and tossing it atop Phil’s pile of clothes—his joggers and tee shirt soon joining. </p><p>At least <em> he </em>was wearing pants. </p><p>The end of the pier was cold through the thin fabric of his Calvins, the water frigid at his feet as he let them dangle off the pier, squinting down into the sea. Dan took in a deep breath, reminded himself that it wasn’t much colder than what he was normally used to diving in—just darker. Much, much darker. </p><p>Dan let his breath out, closing his eyes and taking in one last controlled breath. Five minutes was his best time, he had no idea how long he could last frantic, sightless underwater. He pushed his palms against the dock, desperately trying to not calculate his own chance of survival as he went to jump- </p><p>A light. </p><p>Dan paused his movements, eyes going wide. He blinked, then fell back onto the pier to lift his hands and rub at his eyes. </p><p>A <em> light?  </em></p><p>A shimmering aqua blue light was rapidly rising from below. Bright, unmistakably bioluminescent. </p><p>Dan had seen that shade before—so uniquely icy—but it couldn’t be. </p><p>So of course it was. </p><p>A hand came first, then another. Ten iridescent blue nails gripped at the end of the pier, right between Dan’s spread thighs. Dan followed the wet, glistening skin down pale arms, his jaw nearing concerning levels of unhinged as jet black hair rose from the sea, followed by a brilliant, shining forehead. </p><p>Then those perfect brows, the impossible blue eyes. </p><p>“What the fuck?” Dan whispered, finally managing some control over his slack jaw. </p><p>Phil emerged from the water, bobbing gently, the disturbed waves lapping at his shoulders. They were as bright as the moon overhead. Everything about him was so, so bright. Dan almost wanted to lift a hand, shield his eyes, but he didn’t dare. He couldn’t fathom looking away. </p><p>Phil was smiling—also bright—and he made Dan jump when he moved one of his hands. His thumb brushed against the sensitive skin of Dan’s inner thigh as he flipped it over and opened it out wide. </p><p>A rock- no, a shell sat in the center of his pale palm, looking as slick as his skin. An oyster, Dan realized as he stared. </p><p>“Is this better than your paper?” Phil offered him the oyster. </p><p>Dan looked down at it, honestly at a loss for words. He reached out, taking the cool object from Phil’s hand. </p><p>“Thank you?” Dan said softly, unsure, as he held it up to eye level—turning it over a few times. </p><p>“Oh!” Phil said. A splash of water hit Dan’s thighs as Phil surged up, snatching the oyster back. “Forgot you can’t open these.” </p><p>Water splashed again as Phil pushed away from the dock entirely, floating on his back as he held both hands up to his… <em> teeth</em>? </p><p>Was he really going to- </p><p>Dan gasped. Phil wasn’t kicking back with his feet. He no longer <em> had </em>feet. </p><p>A beautiful tail, unlike any Dan had ever seen—and he had seen a lot, you know—extended out from his torso. He knew instantly that it wasn’t silicone with clarity so strong it almost scared him enough to get up and run. </p><p>But he didn’t. He didn’t move a muscle, actually. </p><p>Dan was never one to believe in anything he couldn’t see. Ghosts, the paranormal, souls, the physics of microwave popcorn, sentient aliens, Mothman—probably. He didn’t believe in any of that. </p><p>Up until about twenty seconds ago, mermaids would’ve made that list. </p><p>He should give aliens another shot, really, space was as unexplored as the ocean. </p><p>Dan’s eyes trailed up the tail, <em> fins</em>, swishing around the water. It was the same exact color—or colors—as Phil’s eyes. It shimmered just like the exposed skin of his shoulders and the highest points of his cheeks. Glints of emerald, sapphire, and gold caught in the moon’s light, Dan following the artificial waves as if he was enchanted. </p><p>He guessed he was. Though that kind of felt like an understatement. </p><p>Phil seemed unaware of Dan’s gawking. He was leaning back in the water, both hands held up to his mouth with the oyster between his pearly-white teeth. He looked like an otter, was all that Dan’s mind provided. A cute otter. </p><p>“<em>Pretty</em>,” was all that left his lips—in a hush so low it was easily drowned by the sea. </p><p>There was a loud crack that brought Dan back to… well, whatever reality this was. With a splash, Phil was swimming right back up to him. Phil popped up, resting his elbows on the dock this time, his cold, wet forearms laying across Dan’s thighs as he presented Dan with the opened oyster. </p><p>“Better?” Phil asked, looking up to hold Dan’s gaze. It took a great deal for Dan to break it and look down at the offering, but he managed after either seconds or hours—if mermaids were real, Dan had no qualms with dismantling time all together. </p><p>With his legs still in the water, Phil’s slick front was pressed firm against his shins. Dan could swear he felt the rapid rhythm of his heart against them—or maybe, it was just his own. He could hear how fast it was beating in his ears. Phil probably felt it as well. The thought alone brought the blood bubbling to the surface of Dan’s cheeks. </p><p>Phil took Dan’s hand in one of his own, Dan watching wordlessly as he scooped something out of the oyster and dropped an absolutely frigid object in his hand. Dan thought it was the only thing keeping him from bursting aflame right then and there. </p><p>Sat in the center of Dan’s palm, as unassumingly small as a simple pea, was a black pearl. Dan didn’t even know such a thing existed, though he knew exactly what it was. There was no question, just as the moment he caught sight of the tail now fully submerged in the water. He caught little flicks of vivid teal and green, the very end of that large webbed fin making minuscule gliding movements behind Phil’s head. </p><p>The pearl reflected those same colors as Dan stared down at his palm with parted lips. Colors taken directly from the glowing hues of Phil’s eyes. </p><p>And that’s when Dan started laughing. He closed his hand into a fist, held the fist close to his chest, and fell back against the pier, laughing hysterically. He felt a bit mad. But mostly? He felt warmth at the very core of his soul—because that apparently existed too. </p><p>His laughs racked through him until he felt like he couldn’t breathe, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes as his head shook against the cool wood. </p><p>He only barely registered the splash—more so the pressure at his thighs, and then the body climbing over him. Knees—actual knees, though they looked slick and shiny, as if they wouldn’t at all feel like human skin if Dan dared to touch them—bracketed his middle. Salt water dripped down onto his face, Dan flinching as a few drops landed just a bit too close to his eyes. </p><p>Phil moved one of his hands by Dan’s head, lifting it to push the hair hanging over his forehead back up off of it and stopping the sea shower. </p><p>Dan looked up at blue eyes and suddenly felt like he was breathing for the very first time. </p><p>“I think if you, like, <em> ate </em>me right now, I’d be okay with it,” Dan said in a hush, cracking a smile. </p><p>Phil’s wet lips turned down. “Don’t say that.” </p><p>“It’s true,” Dan whispered. </p><p>“Do I frighten you?” </p><p>“No,” Dan said quickly, then shook his head against the dock. “Y-yeah, but like…” Dan bit at his bottom lip. A shudder racked its way down his spine as he watched Phil’s eyes flick down, the blue there reducing drastically, leaving something much darker. “In a sexy way.” </p><p>Phil laughed at that, eyes flicking back up with a bright smile. It almost gave Dan whiplash, how quickly the black at the center of his eyes expanded and contracted so drastically in an instant. </p><p>Dan only had one thought at that moment. He <em> needed </em> to kiss Phil. </p><p>So he did. Kissed the giggle right out of his mouth and swallowed it whole. </p><p>“We’re incredibly wet now,” Dan said, once they came up for air. Phil pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. Dan scrunched his face up, wiggling away the tickle. </p><p>Dan’s eyes went wide. “And you’re incredibly naked.” </p><p>“You humans are so weird about your <em> clothing</em>.” Phil clicked his tongue, sitting up on Dan’s lap. Dan followed him, quick to wrap his arms around Phil’s shoulders to pull him close again. “What’s wrong with being naked?” Phil asked against his lips. It seemed genuinely earnest, like Phil was really asking. Dan laughed into the kiss. </p><p>Needless to say, he’d already lost track of the tally. </p><p>“Since we’re already wet...” Dan hummed between them, rolling his hips if only to scoot them both closer to the edge of the dock. “Do you fancy a swim?” he asked with a bump of his nose against Phil’s soft cheek. </p><p>He pulled back just in time to watch Phil’s eyes go dark. </p><p>“Can you take a breath?” Phil squeezed at Dan’s hips. </p><p>Dan rolled his eyes—he was a free diver, that was kind of his whole shtick. He smirked, his lungs expanding, and then Phil was tipping them backwards into the abyss.  </p><p>The water wasn’t dark or cold. Dan felt perfectly comfortable—a new kind of weightless—as the sea gently rocked him. Phil had brought them down deep, and Dan was able to see everything as he blinked through the seawater, thanks to Phil’s bioluminescent glow. The fish darting away from them, the coral, the smooth sand below them. None of it compared to the man that held tight to his side. </p><p>They resurfaced a fair distance away from the docks once Dan’s vision started to go spotty, surrounded by nothing but the calm waters. And that’s exactly how Dan felt: calm. </p><p>He only saw blue on the rare occasion he pulled away, wet hands buried in black silk, though he also saw blue behind the closed lids of his eyes. He never wanted to stop seeing blue. </p><p>They kissed until Dan was sure his lips were blue. The wrinkled skin at his fingertips trailed across Phil’s soft cheeks and shoulders, gripping at the skin that was starting to feel anything but foreign at the back of Phil’s neck. Treading water, his toes brushed against cool, slick scales. Instead of shying away, Dan drifted closer. </p><p>Phil spun them around, Dan coughing through his laughter at the surprise intake of water in place of air as he was pulled against Phil’s chest. Phil kicked—<em>flapped? </em> Dan didn’t know the terminology here—back until he was floating on his back, Dan resting on his chest like some kind of fucked up boogie board. </p><p>The thought made him snort, he buried his laugh into the crook of Phil’s salty neck only to suck in more water through his nose. Dan spluttered and Phil shook in his own laughter below him, never letting either of them fall below the waves. </p><p>“We can spend time together?” Phil asked once the sea around them was calm again, Dan with his arms folded over Phil’s chest—his cheek resting atop his wrist. </p><p>Dan pushed himself up, Phil’s hands at his back holding on tighter as he moved. He stared into the deepest blue—drowned in it. </p><p>“Forever,” Dan said, certain. </p><p>Phil lifted a perfect brow. “For… ever?” He said the word slow, as if he was swishing it around his mouth and tasting it like an expensive merlot. “You’ll have to teach me what your kind means by that one,” he said thoughtfully. “I know minutes. How many minutes is forever?” </p><p>Dan smiled wide—both dimples. “Forever is a lot of minutes, Phil.” </p><p>Phil managed to cock his head, even in the water. <em> Adorable.  </em></p><p>“All of them?” </p><p>“Yes,” Dan laughed. “All of them.” </p><p>Phil pursed his lips, then nodded with a soft smile. “Forever, then.” </p><p>“I think I’m close to turning into a raisin,” Dan said, low, trying to break up the warmth in his chest. He untangled himself from Phil, treading water again, and looked over his shoulder to the docks. “I’ll race you back?” </p><p>Phil grinned, wide and lopsided with all of those shining teeth. “Go on,” he nodded once, “I’ll give you a head start.” </p><p>“I won’t need it.” Dan smirked before filling his lungs with air and diving into the deep. </p><p>And when Dan ran out of air, Phil was there to press their lips together. </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come bug me on <a href="https://sierraadeux.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> and mayhaps i will listen if you have any spooky or spooky adjacent prompts for me :DD <br/>or if u wanna <a href="https://sierraadeux.tumblr.com/post/630795950339883008/well-spend-some-time-forever-t-6897-words">rebloggy</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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